Sherly White and the Seven Yarders
by Sherney Dislock
Summary: "Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away in the magical canon of BBC, there lived a consulting princess, by the name of Sherly White..." AU 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves' crossover, Johnlock and a little bit of Mystrade. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hiyah! this is our first fic, writing together, so R&R tell us what you think. It's a four part fic, and we'll upload one a day. Enjoy!**

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away in the magical canon of BBC, there lived a consulting princess, by the name of Sherly White. Birth name of Sherlock Holmes, but no-one ever came to see a princess with a name like Holmes, it would be shameful! The name was tainted by his brother's unimaginable appetite that had managed to create a name for its self. Anyway, Sherly White lived in a mahoosive castle, sharing the glory with his pet hedgehogs and fairies and enough sass sparkled with knowledge to fill a black hole. Which is an impossibility, black hole do not simply end, unless you have the help of The Doctor and K9, but that's a story for another day. Right now, Sherly's dearest mummy has just passed, and a new queen is taking residence in the castle.

Sherly decides he doesn't like Queen Jim, and the games he plays with Sherly are no fun. "Why blow up the rabbit? I got the riddle. You don't play exactly fair. Talking to the skull is more fun sometimes, you're too caught up in normal things to notice that I'm bored and your games aren't entertaining. Entertain me, or leave." The look Jim gave him after one of these (frequent) outburts was one to rival the look your mother gives you when you say "I want to boil a kitten" or "I'm too busy to clean my room," which in Sherly's household, were equal crimes. Another reason that our dearest Sherly doesn't like Queen Jim is that godforsaken mirror that he never lets go of. Every evening, he sits down and, like a ritual, stares into it and says "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who is the cleverest of them all?" and every time, the mirror answers, "Good queen, it seems that you have the knowledge to wipe out nations." The tiniest smirk would appear on the Queens face, and he would turn away, triumphant. One winter day happens upon Sherly's birthday, and his face is flush with excitement. "Why, I am sixteen today," he chirps, standing on the terrace to the woods, looking out upon the crystalline landscape. Queen Jim, from the balcony above, casts a careless glance down and scoffs. Young and excitable, barely able to concentrate for more than a minute, lest a person in dire need of a princess comes running to the door. Queen Jim sweeps to check on his mirror and performs his ritual.

"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the cleverest of them all?"

"..."

"Mirror...?"

"..."

"Mirror."

"..."

The one sided conversation was going nowhere. Jim stood, angrily and exclaimed;

"If you say what I want, I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes for that oaf Cinderella to shove her warty tootsies in. TELL ME."

"I am afraid, bountiful queen, that Sherly has intelligence that surpasses your own."

The queen was silent, staring hatefully into the mirror. Seized upon impulse, he strode out to the balcony, looking to where Sherly sits, unresponsive, staring into the forest, mumbling something about peace and destruction.

"I will burn you... I will burn, the heart out of you."

He stares at Sherly, realising that this may never come to light.

"Or just send you into the forest to meet your grisly end by the hand of my axe man, and eat your major organs. That could work." Queen Jim cocks his head and grins at the figure in the garden.

"Sorry. Wrong day to die."

"Sherly!" Jim calls, his voice thick with fake care. The figure's head turned to face the bootiful Queen with pale eyes. "Can I help?" he asked.

"Don't use that tone with me. I want you to go into London and get me a new Westwood suit. You're to use your own money. Now go."

Sherly bit back a retort and clenched his fists slightly. How was this fair? He had learnt from experience that it was no use arguing, so went upstairs and collected some money from a hedgehog bank.

After putting a few hard earned ten pound notes in his coat pocket, he retreated out the house to catch a fairy train. Jim watched him leave, a hint of relief flickering in his dark eyes. "MAAAHHHCROOOOOFTTTTTT!" he yelled, listened out for the clank of Mycroft's umbrella he so greatly relied on to walk. Finally, it came sounding up the stairs and Jim didn't have to turn to watch him come into the room, the same bleak expression painted on his face. "Yes...sir...?" he asked wearily.

"I need a job doing."

"What's that sir?"

"I need you to kill Sherly Holmes."

**SHERLY WHITE**

Sherly browsed a couple of shops himself, enjoying the freedom he so unusually was given, mostly pet shops where he fanboyed over the hedgehogs. Finally he was on his way to the suit shop. He did a quick scan of his surroundings, taking in the histories of people around him, before returning to the present with a sharp bump. Quite literally. He spun around to apologise to whoever he had bumped into, but the words were caught in his mouth from the sight of the man in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, please forgive me." coupled with a hand on his and one on his shoulder were the undoing of Sherly, who had never found himself stuck for words before, but this man was just exquisite. Not ONLY was he a prince, (calluses on hands indicate sword fights and gun wielding, but no low class soldiers had posture that made them look quite so dashing. Jacket indicates wealth and importance, with a medical background. A prince that has training in doctoring?) but he was polite, unlike the morons Sherly sometimes had to court, and he was so good looking! Shorter than your average prince, but with posture that seemed to eradicate any notion of less than average height. His features were fine by themselves, but combined they created a man that could not be resisted, with a bit of a hedgehog tang.

"Prince John. Are you sure you're okay, you look dazed..." Prince John's marine blue eyes probed Sherly's ice blue shards. Sherly simply stood and looking into the man's eyes, and knew that he would marry this magnificent man. But right now, Sherly was looking a bit of a numpty, gazing into the eyes of a prince on the corner of the street, where he had been trying to hail a taxi. All thoughts of a taxi were mysteriously wiped from his mind when John slid his hand over Sherly's and took the bag from him.

"Let me take that for you," he murmured, accompanied by a quick quirking of his thin lips, and a glance to the street. Sherly coughed, and attempted to avert his eyes from the Prince, but in vain.

"iwzjsttryntgttatxi"

"Pardon?"

"I was just trying to get a taxi..." Sherly's face was on fire! He had never felt like this with any of the other suitors, why would this John fellow be any different? He shook his head, attempting in a mess of curls, to clear it. It was a futile attempt. Suddenly, Sherly was in a car, and the driver was asking for an address. John leaned into the cab, pressed his lips to Sherly's cutthroat cheekbones and whispered through the mass of curls; "I'll be seeing you soon, I hope."

Sherly made a small whimpering sound. No, no he didn't. The consulting princess Sherly has no weaknesses, and none of the suitors his father dragged forward had been able to impress him, he surely did NOT get faint over princes that he just happened to chance upon in the street. Neither did he smile shyly and blush as John draped the suit over his knees and leaned back, fingers trailing over Sherly's arm. And of course, he did not, under any circumstances trail their fingers together as John extracted himself from the car, and shut the door. And what are you talking about, it's not like he thought about that moment the entire ride home... Well, that's what he'd tell himself later. As he got back to his faaabulous castle, (with the a's, it's part of the sass of belonging to Sherly) he was smiling from ear to ear, and still managed to retain his cheeriness as he dropped of Jim's suit and made his way back to his chamber. Jim was probably brooding in the dungeons.

On his way, as he skipped down the corridors and reflected on how his mind palace was so much more interesting than this castle, he got stopped by his brother.

"Oh Myc, I've had the most fabulous day! I've met my prince!"

"Uhr, that's good, Sherly. You need to come with me, into the forest for a while,"

"Okay! I can tell you about him then!" Sherly grinned submissively, dancing after Mycroft, into the depths of the forest.

* * *

**There, please review and tell us what you think we'd be grateful. Oh and just a quick thing - any spelling errors or you know..."slang" are actually intentional we do know how to write I swear :3**

**Thanks for reading**


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed like forever until Mycroft had slowed his walking pace. Even with his umbrella he was walking quicker than Sherlock, which was surprising for him. Almost as though he wanted to get something over and done with...

Finally they had stopped in a small clearing. "Jim asked you to pick some flowers..." Mycroft said, his voice catching a little as though he were holding back tears. With one quick glance Sherly knew that Jim had told Mycroft to complete another mission of his own...

Too happy that day to worry, he simply nodded, skipping sassily over to pick some flowers, however keeping as alert as he could. His thoughts were full of Prince John, every image of their meeting sending shivers of delight down Sherly's spine. He had never felt like this before. A sense of warmth and joy filled his senses until he was hardly taking in hat flowers he was picking. So absorbed in his thoughts, he failed to notice Mycroft behind him. Drawing a harpoon from his back pocket (cartoon moment there). With a shaking deep breath, Mycroft gently stepped forward, standing tensely behind the humming Sherly. He tipped all the caring thoughts from his mind and tried to focus. Just do it. Kill him. He raised the knife in the air, taking the moment's adrenaline as bravery, before meeting to pale piercing eyes staring back at him. Sherly blinked, "What...are you doing?" he asked, the warmth from his voice dissolving. Mycroft opened his mouth a couple of times, before shutting it again. "Jim...he...never mind. He's after you, Sherly. He's jealous of your cleverness. You need to run, get away from here and never return." Sherly drank in this information, slightly at taken back, "I thought you always told me caring is not an advantage..." he began, before a quick shove from Mycroft sent him stumbling back towards the trees.

"It's not. I'll get killed for this...but I...look just run. Please, Sherly. Just run." Sherly began to take a few steps back hesitantly... "RUN!" Mycroft shouted, his voice filled with panic. Without another glance back, Sherly took off into a top speed run, soon engulfed in the trees.

Mycroft watches his brother run into the forest, whimpering pathetically, and makes a vow to himself that he'll tell the prince Sherly met, and get him to rescue the princess. Princesses are there to be rescued, and Mycroft knew just the Prince to do it. In a fit of determination, he brought the liver and heart of a deer back to the castle, instead of Sherlys. Thankfully, Queen Jim was too caught up in his victory to notice that if Sherly had a heart that small he'd be dead, long ago. Mycroft allowed himself a small smile and went off to tell the Prince.

Sherly ran into the forest, tears streaming from his carefully eyelinere-d eyes and running down his rose petal cheeks. The pain of it! He may never see his dearest Prince John again, and for no reason, other than Queen Jim being a jealous meanie-bo-beanie. On top of that, he might kill Sherly's lovely brother Mycroft, who, despite the 'case of the munchies' he had, was still Sherly's brother and didn't deserve to die for saving the rightful princess of the castle! Already, Sherly found himself missing the high windows, airy corridors and his wonderful violin. The tears began to fall faster, and due to his vision blurring, he trips over a blob in the ground and lands on his bum. Sherly curls into a tight ball and closes his eyes, drifting off into a restless sleep, not noticing that the blob has stopped snoring and was staring at him.

When Sherly came around, he was lying in a bed that could barely hold three quarters of his lanky form. He blinked and looked at the hazy forms surrounding his bed. "..Whu-" he mumbled, before dropping his head back down on the pillow and rubbing his eyes. This was NOT his day. First he gets sent to London to buy a suit for Jim that he didn't even appreciate, during which he met his future husband, and then didn't even learn his last name, but knew that he was the 'one', then he got kicked out of his home by his brother and simultaneously had someone attempt murder of him! And now, he's lying in an uncomfortable bed, with seven blobs surrounding him.

"Hi!" A cheery voice exclaimed. Sherly cracked one eye open, begging the voice to go away and let him sleep forever.

There was a poke to his left rib cage. "You have pretty hair." Followed by a muffled thump, and a small scrabble with a slight undertone that sounded sort of like "Anderson, you'll scare the poor guy away! Don't start talking about dinosaurs again or I'll sndytbdwitndinnr..." Sherly now had both eyes open, and decided that this might be worth of his attention. The first cheery voice spoke up again, from right next to the bed.

"Hi, I'm Lestrade but you can call me Happy. I'm not exactly the happiest man, but we all have nicknames. Apparently I'm the optimist of the Yarders," he said, indicating the group of people, who were at the present moment all crowded around, seemingly desperate to sneak a glimpse of the princess in bed. Noticing that he had noticed them, they all sprang forward and said what seemed to be a well practised ritual.

"I'm Sebastian, but you can call me Doc," said a grinning fool.

"Bashful." Turned the other way, Sherly got the feeling this was the antisocial one.

"Snee-ACHOOOOOOOOOO-zy. Sneezy. Or Mrs. Hudson, which ever you'd like, dear." Accompanied by a timid smile. Sherly smiled back, she seemed to be the mother hen of all the 'Yarders'

"They call me Grumpy. I call me Anthea. The country calls me Most Wanted- but you don't need to know that." Not once did she look up from the phone in her hands. Sherly got the feeling it was business, but he couldn't help but feel slightly exiled. Turning his nose up at her, he decided she wasn't worth his time. Lestrade came over again and motioned to the two in the corner, one who was playing with a model dinosaur, and the other who was dozing in a bed similar to the one Sherly was in.

"Sleepy and Dopey. Work it out for yourself, you tripped over Sleepy, and she brought you here. Now if you're going to stay here you need to make yourself useful when we're out. Cleaning, cooking you know the sort of thing. Any fuss, and you're out." Sherly batted his eyelashes at the small man, knowing that he'd clean and cook, but with reluctance, and that he would not under any circumstances do anything else.

"Great!" Happy exclaimed in his deep, alluring voice. "We have work now, so you can stay in the house for as long as you want." Sherly smiled at them as they siphoned out the room, a couple poking Lestrade and laughing over something that sounded oddly like "trying to catch a glimpse of your mysterious hunter again?" Happy coloured and all but sprinted out the door. Dopey followed last, shaking his head. He looked out the door and mumbled to himself; "Happy's never gonna be happy if the hunter doesn't notice him soon" and something about the castle. Sherly's castle. Sherly stared at Dopey, amazed that he had forgotten Sherly was in the room, and was now gathering his work things with an empty head. "Kick whatever little brain cells you have into action and tell me, are you talking about Mycroft? My brother the hunter? He's always on about a little attractive guy that walks thought he woods sometimes, OI, IDIOT. LISTEN TO ME." Dopey had lost interest and began to walk out the door. At the last comment he turned his watery eyes upon Sherly, and his nose seemed to point accusingly in his direction.

"I. Am. Dopey. Touch my dinosaurs and I'll kill you. And whoever Happy likes is none of your business," he squealed, before storming out and leaving Sherly to the peace of the house. Sherly wasn't fazed by the hostility of the fool, he had met fools before, but he was convinced that Happy and his brother were talking about each other, but wasn't sure how to drive them together. He stared around the empty room and contemplated, before kicking into action and beginning his payments for living here.

Queen Jim stared into the mirror. No one can stop me, he thought. This was the way he liked it. Unrivalled, in control. He grinned, and decided to perform his ritual early today.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall... Who is the cleverest of them all?"

"I am afraid, good queen Jim, that although you are clever, the most intellectually sound resides with the seven Yarders, just over the hill to the east."

The glass Jim had been holding was no longer a glass.

It was a few shards on the floor.

Funny how something shattering can be so eerily beautiful.

A glass.

A charade.

An idea.

Sanity.

Jim whirled around, and yelled at the top of his lungs;

"!" but Mycroft was a long way away, talking to Lestrade, who he had been harbouring affection against for the past few months.

In those split seconds, Jim shattered. And then put himself back together. Badly. He wanted nothing more than to be the most clever in the land, "without a SHERLOCK BLOODY HOLMES TO THWART MY PLANS." He yelled into the open air. In that moment, Jim decided. He would have revenge. Whatever it cost.

"Mycroft!"

"MYCROFT!"

"!"

A gloomy looking Mycroft appeared at the door of Jim's study, hair slightly out of place from his usual groomed neatness. Jim let out an annoyed sigh, "No rush." he sneered.

Mycroft stared stonily back, "It required leg work to get here?"

"I need your help, dear…trusted servant."

"What with…sir?"

Jim twirled around in his spinny-chair, becoming suddenly engrossed with spinning, looking like a child discovering presents under a Christmas tree, and letting out a "WHEE!". He soon remembered Mycroft was in the room, and halted the chair with an awkward cough. "Well, our dear clever old Sherly's death. That's what." He drummed his fingers on the table. Mycroft shifted uncomfortably. "Why do you need my help?" he coughed.

Jim's lips twisted into a cold smile. "I need to dress up like a laaddaaayyyhhhh!" he replied, clapping his hands together.

An uplifted tune sung out from the Yarder's little cottage. It was, of course, Sherly singing happily in his low mesmerising voice. He danced around sassily as he swept the leaves and cleaned the dishes, his black curled locks bouncing around with his movements. Lestrade waddled in, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. "You seem in a good mood, considering you're doing chores." He commented, making Sherly jump slightly.

"Oh, Lestrade, hi!" he said, trying to plaster a serious face on his features, but failed greatly and ended up grinning like a hedgehog. If hedgehog's could grin.

"What's with the good mood then? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were in love." Lestrade chuckled. Sherly stopped stone still, face paling.

"You would?" he asked. Lestrade raised an eyebrow.

"You are, aren't you? Funny, you didn't strike me as the falling in love type…"

"I'm not in love!" Sherly blurted, face burning with the truth.

Lestrade coughed, "I can tell you know. I've…I am in…yeah anyway. Who's the lucky one?"

"No one! I'm not. In. Love. I'm Sherly White, I don't do love I don't, what is love anyway, a type of bread? Just leave me alone stop asking me questions I don't know what you mean ." Lestrade put his hands up in defence,

"Okay, whoa, calm it. Don't have a panic attack, being a Doctor isn't my division."

"John's a Doctor…" murmured Sherly dreamily, completely oblivious to the fact he was talking out loud.

"Called John then is he?" Lestrade smirked. Sherly glared at him, before taking his broom and turning back to his work.

"Yes." He replied, so quietly that Lestrade could hardly hear him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim looked back at his reflection in the mirror. He looked positively faaabulous. He was dressed with a long, jet black wig and pair of tight fitting skinny jeans and a white t shirt reading: "FANGIRLING FTW" with a large picture of a moustache printed on. He had gone to a lot of effort with makeup and other womanly things. He laughed his best evil laugh. "Sherly won't be able to recognise me now, 'ay Mycroft?"

Mycroft shrugged half-heartedly.

"Any more news on dear old Sherly?"

Mycroft shook his head.

"Ha ha, perfect. I heard he's doing chores for the Yarders now. I know, I read it in the newspapers. I love newspapers, they're fairy-tales."

Mycroft forced himself to smile, before stepping back sadly. "What's the plan again, sir?" trying his hardest to stay polite.

"It's pretty simple really. I will go to the Yarders house when they're out mining for breadcrumbs, and pretend to be selling shoe laces." He held up pink shoe laces, picked up from a pile on the table, "I will then tie Sherly up in a special way so that every time he moves he strangles himself more."

"Brilliant," Mycroft forced out, close to knocking Jim out.

"Isn't it?" Jim smirked, "Wish me luck. Ciao, Mycroft Holmes."

. . . .

Sherly sat down, finished with his chores. The Yarders had gone out mining, leaving him to the surroundings of the cottage and animals that danced around happily outside. Hedgehogs nuzzled moustaches, as they do, and hamsters scuttled around wearing SHERLOCK t shirts. Sherly sighed happily, John clouding his thoughts once again. Would he ever meet the fabulous, sassy, good looking Medical Prince again? He certainly hoped so.

A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts.

Opening it warily, though still half in a world of John thoughts, he was faced with a black haired woman. She smiled kindly at him, though the eyes…what was it with her eyes? Something familiar and cold…as though a distressed soul was lingering behind closed doors.

But the smile was enough to put Sherly at ease. Almost. He could tell from the awkward but business way the woman stood, she was selling something. "Can I help?" Sherly asked.

The woman held up a basket of what appeared to be shoe laces. Sherly looked over them for a second, "I'm not interested, thanks though."

The woman did not move. "Please." She said, in a reedy voice. Sherly shook his head gracefully, about to shut the door when the woman slammed her hand hard against the wood. "Excuse me…"

Before Sherly could continue, the woman was grabbing him by the shoulders and wrapping a shoe lace so tightly around his neck that Sherly could hardly keep a grasp of the world around him…musn't…fall…unconscious…musn't…

Sherly opened his eyes, his pupils dilating in response to the sudden intrusion of light. They were pin pricks as Happy leaned over him.

"You have... Beautiful... Eyes... Uhm- I mean-Uhr- Are you o- How in the heck did you get shoelaces tangled around your neck?"

Sherly glared daggers at him, sitting up with a pout on his face, and said in a tone benefitting of a bad-tempered three year old;

"I think Queen Jim is trying to kill me. He came here dressed as a woman, and tried to kill me with this shoelace. I don't know why he's doing it, surely his vanity can survive. I'm not exactly trying to steal his crown." The pout intensified and Sherly crossed his legs, and his arms, and went into full blown 'I'm having a sulk don't talk to me or I'll bite your head off' mode.

"If he kills me I'll never meet my prince again." The lower lip trembled and a solitary tear ran down Sherly's obnoxiously prominent cheekbone. This was enough to jerk him half way out his strop, Sherly hadn't cried since he was three, and now he was getting watery eyed over a shoelace? Sherly tossed it away from him and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't notice Happy plopping himself down next to Sherly.

"I know what you mean. My guy will never notice I think he's amazing. He's always talking about you or work. I don't know how to get him to open up." Sherly stared at Happy in amazement. Here was the happiest member of the Yarders, sitting down next to him, upset over... His brother? Wait, his brother had been meeting with Lestrade? Sherly just stared.

"He talked about nothing but you for the past week I was at the Castle. It came to be a bit of a boring subject, to be honest. I much prefer hedgehogs." The euphoric look on Happy's face would have brought happiness to nations, had they needed it. Happy smiled again, a small giddy smile, and skipped out into the forest.

"Later, Sherly." Sherly shook his head and went back to his silent John-filled vigil and contemplated how many times Queen Jim would try and murder him.

Striding back into the castle, Queen Jim giggled triumphantly.

"Mirror, oh mirror, on my wall. Who just murdered the cleverest person in the land and then subsequently made himself the cleverest?" Jim sighed in a poor imitation of empathy at Sherly's alleged death, and straightened himself up, with his arms raised above his head, in a classic dancers pose.

"I don't know, Queen Jim. Tell me, if you please."

"I DID." And he giggled. He giggled because his arch enemy was dead, the game was over, and he had won! And he's a very bad winner, because in his books, the winner takes it all! He twirled and pirouetted to a standstill right in front of the mirror.

"Isn't that right, mirror dearest?"

"I hate to inform you that your 'rival' is still alive, having been saved by a delightful yarder. I wonder if he can introduce me to that Veloceraptor that 'Anderson' well, he's called 'Dopey' has... it's rather attractive..."

"What."

"Veloceraptor. Much more attractive than the Stegosaurus, if you ask me-"  
"NONONONONONONONOTHATBIT. The bit about Sherly."

"Still... alive?

"BUT I KILLED HIM. He should be dead."

"People have already died..."

"That's. What. People. DO."

The mirror made a small whimpering sound before shutting up, as was obvious Jim desired. Jim rubbed his hands together and plotted. Being a woman didn't work, so he'd have to do something whole-heartedly different. Four and a half minutes later, he was gay. Well, okay he was gay already, but at the moment he looked even gay-er and he wasn't sure if that's a word but it sure applied to him. Hair gelled into spiky waves, face covered in a mask, making him look like someone utterly different and his clothes basically screaming his sexuality. Out of his pocket, he drew his deadliest weapon. Sherly's Emergency Comb. He had coated it in poison, so when it began working its way into Sherly's curly black locks, it would poison him and render him dead, if left long enough. Thank god that Sherly had left it behind. An hour later and Jim was back at the castle, having left a nicely wrapped Emergency Comb on the doorstep of the Yarder's cottage.

Mycroft crept though the bushes that shrouded the front of the house, checking for any signs of Jim. A preposterous idea, at the moment Jim was getting ready to murder his little brother, and he knew it. Mycroft walked confidently up to the door and knocked. A minute later a man opened it. Dashing good looks, slight resemblance to a hedgehog; it was John Watson. Sherly's prince. After a few minutes of babbling the situation, John invited Mycroft in.

Sherly danced around in the cottage, cleaning to his little heart's utter fickle desires. He was happy to do this while thinking of a way to not get murdered, play matchmaker, and meet his prince, when a knock on the door signified the Yarder's return. Not willing to admit he had missed them, Sherly heaved an over dramatic sigh and flung the door open.

"Welcome back, already." Lestrade smiled with his eyes, and the only one that actually looked him in the eyes and smiled was Mrs. Hudson, who carried a package with his name on it. He took off the paper and found;

"My emergency comb!" Sherly screeched, immediately dragging it through his luscious locks, "Thank god, I thought I'd lost yoooooouhnf-"and with a small flail he hit the floor.

He woke up five minutes later with his head in a bowl of warm water.

"whtinthhkhppnd," he managed to get out.

"Ah, Sherly! You're awake! We think your comb was poisoned, so we washed your hair-well Mrs. Hudson washed your hair." Sherly blinked stupidly. C'mon he's fainted or almost died about five times in the last twelve hours.

"Jim... was back?"

"Yes, dear. He's gone now." Sherly smiled stupidly.

"Good." Before promptly fainting into the pillows.

"NOT EVEN MY EMERGENCY COMB WORKED?"

"Uhrm, no. I'm sorry I would help if I co-"

"SHUTTUP, YOU." Jim began pacing, thinking at a billion miles a minute.

"I'm gonna have to take this to a new level" he muttered. A plan was beginning to formulate. Yes! He would do exactly that. The disguise, first. And in a few minutes he was an old crone. Staring in the mirror, he twisted, and admired the view of his rather splendidly formed ass.

"Yes, this will work. Better get to work! Until later, dearest mirror, when my Sherly will be as dead as a doornail."

And with that, he swept into the dungeons to create the material goods for his new plan.

"So you see, we have to help him. I know Jim is going to do something terrible, and Sherly will die!" Mycroft finished his frantic explanation, and John stared into the distance, the cogs in his mind working frantically.

"You know about all this, why can't you go and save him?"

Mycroft was astonished. This, John. He was a decent thinker. Mycroft shook his head, looking like he'd just been told the love of his life could never be his.

"I can't go near the cottage; it's out of my boundaries. I'll get punished. It's not worth it, even though Lestrade's in that cottage." The look was back again, and John briefly wondered who Lestrade was, before deciding that Sherly's more important, and whoever had hurt him would pay, and dearly. John stood up, and proclaimed;

"I'm going to save Sherly."

Before running out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

At that moment, Queen Jim, disguised as Old Crone, was serving tea to Sherly. They were sitting outside the cottage with all the Yarders in it, and The Old Crone was asking Sherly how he was, on-

"-Such a fabulous day, it's only right that a young thing such as yourself has something to do. Sugar?"

"Yes, please. Oh, I don't need anything to do, I'm happy in my mind palace. Even on a day like this." Sherly's dandelion seed skin seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Jim almost threw up.

Putting a large dose of 'Sugar' into the tea along with his milk, Jim took a gulp of his tea. Sherly took a small sip, before collapsing. Happy, and a group of other Yarders rushed out, but it was Happy that directly confronted Jim;

"What did you do to him?"

"Oh just a nice little dose of morphine, if I got the amounts right, which I believe I did, he will not survive. Ciao!" Jim inspected his nails while he spoke, and then flashed a grin, turned and sprinted. A huge weight on his back brought him crashing to the floor. The, whatever it was that currently straddled Jim flipped him, and stared at him.

"I'm Doc. And you're kind 'a cute..." 'Doc' pinched Jim's cheek, to which Jim shot him a look that would make any flower die. Doc laughed ecstatically.

"Can I keep him?" Doc asked Lestrade.

"NO!" Chorused the Yarders, and Jim, which cause Doc to pout and push Jim back to the floor.

Meanwhile, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson were looking at Sherly, flailing indecisively over what to do, just as John burst from the tree line.

"Oh god, I'm too late," he gasped, sprinting over to Sherly, kneeling next to him and laying his hands on Sherly's statuesque chest, checking for a heartbeat and finding one. He finds that Sherly's still alive, only just. There wasn't enough morphine to completely kill him, but he's a short trip away from death by asphyxiation. John Quickly performs CPR, bringing him back to life by pumping breath into his lungs using mouth to mouth. Sherly's eyelids flicker open and he stares up into John's.

"Why does death hurt?"

"You're alive, your brother told me you'd be here and Jim was trying to kill you." He clutches Sherly closer to his chest. Suddenly, Sherly rolls up onto his knees next to Johns and stares into his eyes, the deep baritone sending shivers down John's spine.

"Thank you for saving me."

And Sherly's fingers are threaded in John's short hair, their lips are meeting and the tongue that formed the exquisite voice that had been torturing John a second ago, was doing equally exquisite things to the inside of his mouth, dancing together in an intimate gesture of thanks.

A cough from next to them brought them back to earth.

"Finished?"

It was Lestrade. Sherly smiled in a small quirk of his lips, and pulled away from John, but not before pressing one last, chasté kiss to the corner of John's mouth.

It seemed strange to move in 221B cottage in the forest of London after living in such large houses for so long. Sherly could hardly keep his eyes off Prince John and Prince John could hardly keep his eyes off Sherly. So when they finally dragged themselves out of the cottage, John didn't even ask where they were going. The only time he tried to open his mouth was to ask why he was being pushed into a suit shop, but Sherly's lips on his silenced him. A few people around them tried to do their best not to stare at them. "Sherly…" John gasped, pushing Sherly away for air, "Just answer me…what are we doing in here?"  
"We need suits." Sherly replied simply, grabbing John's hand and browsing through a couple of racks stuffed with expensive suits.  
"Mind if I ask what the hell for?"  
Sherly, annoyingly, turned away to grab a suit jacket and held it casually to John's torso. "Perfect," he mumbled, shoving the jacket into John's unsuspecting hands. For the next couple of minutes Prince John acted like a coat hanger whilst Sherly threw ties, jackets, trousers and shirts all over him. Finally looking like he was finished, he hurried John into the changing room. John sighed and closed the curtain behind him, smiling.

Two hours later, John was dressed in a new suit in 221B cottage, waiting impatiently for Sherly. Finally, the princess emerged from their room in a smart looking black suit. It contrasted with his pale skin perfectly, and his black usually scruffy looking curls were combed back. Overall he looked amazing. John bit his lip and went over to smooth down his partners suit collar. "Don't put your collar up, Sherly, trying to act all cool and mysterious with those cheekbones." John said. Sherly stuck out his bottom lip,  
"Don't pretend you don't love it." He teased.  
"Never said I didn't." replied John, leaning in to brush his lips softly against Sherly's. Sherly, in response, places his hands on John's hips and poured himself into the kiss. A knock on the door made them halt before the kiss could get any more dramatic.

Sherly pulled away regretfully, walking coolly over to the door to reveal a much happier looking Mycroft. John was surprised to see he was also dressed in what looked like a new suit. What was going on with the suits?  
"Ready?" asked Mycroft, grinning.  
Sherly nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips. He held out his arm, his eyes flitting over to John for a second. It took John a couple of seconds to realise this was an invitation. Without hesitation he took Sherly's arm lovingly. "Mind if I ask where we're going?"  
"A ball, John."

….  
Sherly had attended many balls in his life. Coming from a rich family it had almost been compulsory. Queen Jim had a liking for boogying and would organise balls mainly for the dancing. He would do a move that Sherly found ridiculous, where he would put his arms above his hand and wiggle them, like a drunk giraffe. Then he would drink too much fairy liquid and get Sherly to drag him to his room and leave him there to sulk.  
So it was a pleasant surprise when he arrived at Mycroft's ball. It was a dully lit ballroom, tinted purple with pinpricks of yellow light scattered around. A fancy drinks stool was set up near the side and a ballroom dance floor looked so inviting whilst it glinted in the lights. The first thing Sherly noted was Mycroft and Lestrade holding hands and staring at each other in the same way Anderson stares at dinosaurs. Sherly smirked slightly, before turning his gaze to John, who was scanning the room obviously noting who he knew and who he needed to introduce himself too.  
Before John had a chance to socialise, Sherly had grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the dance floor. "What…" John began, before he found himself surrounded by Sherly's arms placed on his shoulders.  
"Dance with me, John." Sherly said sassily. It was all John could do to place his hands on Sherly's hips and begin dancing awkwardly to the music. He had never been one for grace, but it seemed almost natural in Sherly's arms. He found himself absorbed in just moving in time with Sherly's footsteps, which were surprisingly light and graceful, and watching the light dance in the princess' eyes.  
They stayed that way for a while longer, until the music changed into a beautiful melodic piece that sent shivers down Sherly's spine. He realised after a couple of minutes that he and John were hardly dancing anymore. Instead their arms were tightly held around each other. It was just hugging on a ballroom floor. Sherly buried his face into John's suit, taking in the smell of him. He smelt like…hedgehogs. Good hedgehogs, mind.  
John lazily glanced up from his rest on Sherly's shoulder to look at the people around him. Couples were dancing everywhere but one couple caught his eye. Mycroft and Lestrade were in much the same position as him and Sherly, but slightly more…Mystrade-y. After a while the music stopped and Sherly pulled back, looking as though he had just woken up from a pleasant dream. He blinked slightly, adjusting his eyes to the light and returning to the present.  
"Drink?" he asked in an unsteady voice. Obviously Sherly could not handle these feels!  
"You ok, Sherly?" asked John, taking his hand as they made their way to the drink stall.  
"I've never felt this way about anyone before, Jawn. Too many fangirl feels for me to handle…" Sherly replied.

Suddenly, a grinning Mrs Hudson yarder popped up behind them. "HI JOHN AND SHERLY!" she said, bursting with what looked like excitement.  
"Uhm…hello, Mrs Hudso-…" John began, before he was cut off by a big squeal from Mrs Hudson.  
"I saw you two dancing together, omg are you dating, omg because I ship you both so hard, omg I can't, I have a whole tumblr about you two and I read fanfiction omg I just can't, I fangirl over you every day omg omg omg omg I can't believe you're actually in love I can't too many feels what is air omg omg omg omg."  
They left Mrs Hudson omging to herself after they received their drinks, and sat down on two spare seats. Prince John rested his head on Sherly's shoulder, staring around at everyone on the dance floor. "Look at Mycroft and Lestrade." He said to Sherly.  
Sherly nodded. "Mystrade, Mrs Hudson ships that too."  
John looked at him questioningly.  
"I went on her Tumblr, John." Sherly rolled his eyes jokingly and John nudged him.  
"Was it good?"  
"Sort of. Too many pictures of this guy called Benedict Cumberbatch. Apparently she "hates him for his perfection" to be honest I think that's rather rude."  
John chuckled, reminding himself to teach Sherly the language of the internet, before taking his hand and putting his glass on the floor. "John?" asked Sherly, obediently putting his drink down too.  
"I want to dance again." John said simply.  
Sherly smiled, accepting the offer, and they returned to the dance floor, soon lost in each other's arms, swaying with the music and generally just accepting that they were a fangirl's dream ship. They didn't look up at the slightest sound, not even when Anderson's dinosaur ate a guest by mistake. They just loved each other so much it didn't matter.

The end omg.


End file.
